Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Q Quotes

Q Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with Q. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All Q Quotes

“Quindici brevi ma intensi capitoli ognuno dedicato ad un artista diverso, che si racconta con vibranti parole ed opere d’arte innovative. Painting, photography, drawing from Africa and its Diaspora è il nuovo libro, in realtà è un eBook, che ho pubblicato in lingua inglese. Il libro si propone di creare e stimolare una reazione forte nel lettore, spinto a riflettere sull’attuale situazione attraverso i racconti di artisti africani e afrodiscendenti. Energia, colore e un inedito spirito ironico contraddistinguono i profili degli artisti Bussola digitale | Arte, fotografia dall’Africa del XXI secolo Medium @shotofwhisky”

“Quinito… mas, para além disso, tu sabes melhor do que eu que, logo que o regime mudou, em noventa e um, foram os camaradas do teu partido os primeiros a mostrarem apetência para os bens materiais ao tomarem de assalto as empresas do Estado, a privatizarem tudo o que pudesse dar lucro, a avidez pelo dinheiro era tão grande que dessa febre de capitalização de bens materiais só escaparam as igrejas e os cemitérios!, dizes tu que é um exagero?, então não é verdade que alguns deles se tornaram famosos quando, para justificarem a roubalheira diziam que o cabrito come onde está amarrado?”

“Quinn came forward and Sam pulled him aside. His old friend looked tortured and sad. “What’s up, brah?” Sam asked. Quinn couldn’t speak. He was choked with emotion. “Dude . . .” “You want to stay in town.” “My crews . . . my boats and all . . .” Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “Quinn, I’m glad you found something so important to do. Something you really like.” “Yeah, but . . .” Sam pulled him into a brief hug. “You and me, we’re still friends, man. But you have responsibilities.”

“Quinn dropped her hand and avoided Thalcu’s eye. “I . . . I don’t want to kill you,” she said to the floor. “Not if I could save you.” The woman smiled gently at Quinn, her lips curling behind her oxygen mask. “I will not really die,” she said, drawing Quinn’s surprised gaze. She looked at Quinn contently a moment and went on, “Do you know how worlds are born? From the first breath of a star. We are made of starlight. We can not bear to look into the sun, into the thing that birthed us, anymore than we can bear to look upon our parents in the throes of passion. It is our point of origin, and to it, we all must return.”

“Quinn knows what I am talking about… Don’t you Quinn?” His blue eyes looked glazed over like he was possessed by a dark entity as he lunged toward the window and growled, “And it looks like you brought some friends!” He turned his head creepily toward me while his eyes continued to glimmer underneath the iridescent lighting.”

“Quinn lifted Lady Meade's hand and pressed a very correct kiss on her bony knuckles. Then he bent and brushed his lips over Viola's cheek. Smart man. If he'd put her hand anywhere near his mouth, she'd have curled her fingers into a fist and clouted him a good one. "I'll see you at home later, dearest." "You know how we women are when we're shopping," She smiled venomously at him. "Don't wait up." Quinn lifted a brow at that, but kept a smile firmly in place for her mother's sake. "Yes, well, try not to spend all my money in one place." "Of course not," she said sweetly. "I know lots of places to spend all your money.”

“Quinn seemed to have become one of a jaded philosophical society, a group of arcane deviates. Their raison d'etre was a kind of mystical masochism, forcing initiates toward feats of occult daredevilry - "glimpsing the inferno with eyes of ice", to take from the notebook a phrase that was repeated often and seemed a sort of chant of power. As I suspected, hallucinogenic drugs were used by the sect, and there was no doubt that they believed themselves communing with strange metaphysical venues. Their chief aim, in true mystical fashion, was to transcend common reality in the search for higher states of being, but their stratagem was highly unorthodox, a strange detour along the usual path toward positive illumination. Instead, they maintained a kind of blasphemous fatalism, a doomed determinism which brought them face to face with realms of obscure horror. Perhaps it was this very obscurity that allowed them the excitement of their central purpose, which seemed to be a precarious flirting with personal apocalypse, the striving for horrific dominion over horror itself. ("The Dreaming In Nortown")”

“Quinn spoke their language—all mystery and inside jokes, scarred souls and statement shirts. It was a beautiful moment for him—in his element and completely happy. When they started playing, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “See that guitar?” I nodded. “That’s a 1969 Martin D28. Hear me when I say if I had to choose between a beautiful girl and that guitar, I’d choose the guitar. Natch.” He took a huge gulp of water, clearly affected. “Naturally,” I whispered. “It could be why you’re still single.”

“Quinn's First Law of Investing is never to buy anything whose price you can't follow in the newspapers. An investment without a public marketplace attracts the fabulists the way picnics attract ants. Stock brokers and financial planners can tell you anything they want, because no one really knows what's true. The First Corollary to Quinn's First Law states that, even when the price is in the newspapers, you shouldn't buy anything too complex to explain to the average 12-year-old.”

“Quinnipeague in August was a lush green place where inchworms dangled from trees whose leaves were so full that the eaten parts were barely missed. Mornings meant 'thick o' fog' that caught on rooftops and dripped, blurring weathered gray shingles while barely muting the deep pink of rosa rugosa or the hydrangea's blue. Wood smoke filled the air on rainy days, pine sap on sunny ones, and wafting through it all was the briny smell of the sea.”

“Quinns always come at half price, about half the time, and half-naked, even during the colder half of winter. A Quinn is like a queen, but draggier, and cheaper to buy and use for personal gain, unless you’re suspicious that you’re poor and illiterate like Jarod Kintz, in which case Quinns could be the spirits of your dead relatives, come to haunt you until you gather a massive fortune through selling books on the internet, to send some back in time through a portal you bought from the NSA, so they would have lived better lives without having to move a finger for their fortune. Oh, yah, and since they aren’t - they’re blue, like smurfs, yet they turn purple whenever tickled on the belly, which is something they seem to rather dislike, since they start biting and scratching when it happens, for no good reason, I might add.”

“Quintilian [educational writer in Rome around A.D. 100] thought that the earliest years of the child's life were crucial. Education should start earlier than age seven, within the family. It should not be so hard as to give the child an aversion to learning. Rather, these early lessons would take the form of play--that embryonic notion of kindergarten.”

“Quirrel said Snape-" "Professor Snape, Harry." "Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hate my father. Is that true?" "Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. Then your father did something Snape could never forgive. " "What?" "He saved his life." "What??" "Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way peoples minds work, isn't it?”